It's the Thought That Counts in the End
by margaretlynn
Summary: Hutch's Christmas present to Starsky doesn't work out quite as he planned. Post "Sweet Revenge".


**It's the Thought That Counts in the End**

by margaretlynn

"Hang in there, Hutch. Just a little further," Starsky coached, encouraging his limping partner the last few steps to the couch. "Okay, just lean on me while I rearrange things here a bit... There! All set. Now we'll just ease you down reeeeal slow..."

Hutch held on tight to his partner's arms as Starsky carefully lowered him onto the couch, unable to stop the groan that escaped as the pain increased. "I think I may need to lie down," he managed between gritted teeth. Without question, Starsky helped him to stretch out on his side, pausing only long enough to remove Hutch's shoes before lifting his long legs up onto the cushions. Hutch sighed as the pain subsided somewhat again. His eyes closed, he felt the warm old afghan from the back of the couch being deftly tucked around him then gentle fingers caressed his hair.

"How ya' feelin'?" Starsky asked softly.

Hutch opened his eyes and found his partner perched on the edge of the coffee table across from him. "Stupid," he groused before closing his eyes again.

Starsky chuckled. "Yeah, well, that's understandable. But cheer up! The doc said it ain't broken, just bruised."

Hutch sighed and opened his eyes again. "Still hurts like hell," he complained.

Starsky reached out to stroke his hair once more. "I know it does, babe. You think it'd help if we put some ice on it?" There was a definite twinkle in the brunet's eyes now, in spite of his obvious concern over the injury.

Hutch's eyes widened at the suggestion. "That's not very funny," he sulked.

"I know," Starsky conceded. "I'm sorry. But the doctor did say..."

Hutch just shook his head. "I don't care what he said. **No ice**!" he declared emphatically.

Starsky raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay," he conceded, smiling. "No ice. At least, not right now. How about some aspirin instead?"

"Yeah, that might help," Hutch nodded, closing his eyes again. Pill bottles rattled briefly in the bathroom followed by the sound of water running in the kitchen. A few moments more, and Starsky was back.

"Here ya' go," Starsky said, holding out two of the little white tablets. In his other hand was a tall glass of ice water to which he'd thoughtfully added a straw so that Hutch wouldn't have to sit up again to drink.

Hutch put the pills in his mouth and washed them down with a long sip of water. "Can I get you anything else?" Starsky asked as he took the glass back and pulled the afghan up a bit higher around Hutch's shoulders. "Some soup maybe? Or I could turn on the tv for you? There's this great show on tonight about..."

Hutch made the supreme effort to open his eyes once more. "Starsk...look, I know you're only trying to help, but right now I don't feel like being fussed over. So why don't you just leave me alone for a while, okay?"

"Sure, Hutch," Starsky nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "I understand. I'll just get myself something to eat and then maybe read a book, something quiet. You'll never know I'm here."

Hutch let out another long sigh as he closed his eyes once more. "Yeah, whatever, Starsk," he agreed wearily, wanting nothing more than to curl up and try to forget the whole, embarrassing evening. Nothing had turned out the way he'd planned today.

It had all started a few months before with a conversation about some of their favorite childhood memories. As Hutch had been telling his partner about how much he'd enjoyed ice-skating with his family on the pond on his grandfather's farm, Starsky had gotten a wistful look on his face.

"You know," he'd said quietly. "My pop used to love to ice-skate. And, according to mom, he was pretty good at it, too. His pop had taught him when he was little and he'd taken mom skating a couple o' times when they were dating.

"He always said he was going to teach Nicky and me someday. But, there weren't any ice rinks near where we lived and, even if there had been, there never seemed to be enough time or money for stuff like that. And then, he was gone and I moved out here. Not many places to ice-skate in Southern California either!" he'd laughed. "So I just forgot about it, I guess. Until now..."

Hutch had been wracking his brain, trying to think of something special to give his partner this year. And, right then, he'd known what he was going to get. He wished he had a picture of Starsky's face when he'd opened his gift Christmas morning.

"Well," Hutch asked, trying not to laugh at his partner's bemused expression. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to say," Starsky answered carefully, pulling one of the new ice-skates out of its box for a closer look. "I guess they're better'n that tree you gave me a couple of years ago, but, in case you haven't noticed, there ain't a whole lot of ice around here, even this time of the year."

"There is in Minnesota," Hutch grinned. "Mom was just asking me the other night when we were going to come out for another visit. I told her I'd talk to Dobey and see if we can get a few days off after the first. Meanwhile, I saw in the paper the other day that there's an ice rink in that new mall that just opened. How 'bout we go over there next weekend and check it out?"

"Thanks, buddy. That all sounds great, but...I don't know how to skate," Starsky admitted softly, setting his gift aside with a sad expression.

Hutch couldn't help laughing then. "I know that, Starsk. That's why I'm going to _teach_ you."

Starsky's whole face lit up. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course I will. It'll be fun, you'll see."

And it had been, right up until the accident.

After a few wobbles and a lot of giggling, Starsky was finally starting to get the hang of it. Hutch was skating backwards, watching him like a proud parent, thinking how, only a little more than a year before, Starsky'd barely been able to walk on his own. Now, here he was, learning to ice skate. He'd been so caught up in his partner's accomplishment, that he hadn't seen the little girl who'd swooped behind him until it was too late. He'd missed the child, but gone down hard, landing right on his tailbone on the unforgiving ice.

A light touch on his shoulder shook Hutch out of his dark train of thought. "I know you said you didn't want me to bug you," Starsky apologized. "But there's still plenty of hot soup left and I made some sandwiches. You sure you don't want anything?"

 _"Hutchinson, you are such a heel,"_ he scolded himself silently. Out loud, he said, "Don't apologize, Starsky. I'm the one who should be sorry. I...I just wanted to give you something really nice this year. And now it's all ruined."

"Whadda you mean?" Starsky asked, genuinely puzzled. "I hate that you got hurt, but I still love those skates. And, even more, I love the thought behind 'em. I'm hoping I'll get a lot of use out of them. But, after today, I really wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to set foot on the ice again," he said.

"It wasn't my feet I had trouble with," Hutch joked, wincing slightly as his chuckles sent a fresh twinge of pain up his spine. "But, no, I don't think this has put me off skating forever. Just until I can sit down again without needing this stupid donut!" Hutch waved the little inflatable cushion in the air for emphasis. "Of course, this also means we probably won't get to make that trip to see my parents, either. At least not until after the pond's thawed."

"That's okay, Hutch. We can go skating with them next year. By then, I ought to be really good," Starsky smiled.

"I'm glad you liked your present, Starsk," Hutch said sincerely.

"How could I not?" Starsky asked. "After the way you literally busted your butt to make this Christmas special for me?" Laughing, he ducked just in time to avoid being hit with the donut.

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